


A Moment of Utter Stillness

by ofunaq



Category: The Lie Tree - Frances Hardinge
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5465846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofunaq/pseuds/ofunaq





	A Moment of Utter Stillness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryfkah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/gifts).



Cape Town, at last! After months of planning, and weeks at sea, only a few hours of the long voyage remained. Faith sat on deck, perched on a crate as near to the prow as she dared. Behind her, Paul was languidly reclined on a deck chair, finishing the last of the bananas they had taken on board in Madeira.

The mail ship crested another wave, covering her in a fine spray of salty water, contrasting deliciously on her skin with the heat of the African sun. With a smile, she glanced down at the parasol discarded at her feet, imagining exactly what her mother would say. But only for a moment: her gaze returned to the arresting view of Table Mountain, its characteristic flat top shrouded in a tablecloth of cloud. She squinted in the dazzling light, trying to make out the detail, and hoping against hope that this voyage would deliver on its promise.

Faith could still hardly believe it was really happening. After their return to Kent from the island of Vane, and a brief interregnum, Paul Clay’s father was appointed as the new rector. Somehow, with a finesse Faith still could not fully understand, her mother had transformed almost overnight, from the grieving widow of the late Reverend Sunderly, into the new Mrs Clay, the vicar’s wife. Paul and her little brother Howard were sent away to school. As for Faith, she slowly took over her father’s study and his library of books, at first in secret, and then with her mother’s blessing.

Then, inspiration! Acclaim! Eighteen year old Faith’s startling discovery of the secret truth, hidden in her father’s debunked fake. Her father’s fossil – _her_ fossil – two fossils cleverly grafted together to deceive the world – was in fact not one but _two_ new species of dinosaur. The Royal Society wouldn’t hear of it, refused to even acknowledge her letters, but the Zoological Society of London saw her discovery as a missing link between dinosaurs and birds, and even invited her to give a public lecture on it.

A niggling, doubting voice in the back of Faith’s head wondered whether they had truly recognised her for her brilliance, or whether it was just a cynically sensationalist ploy for publicity, to increase their flagging membership. Nevertheless, the discovery had opened a secret door into the world of natural history, and Faith had leapt at the chance.

And now, Faith was leading a Zoological Society expedition to the Cape, to explore the earliest known traces of mankind, on a quest to discover the missing link between beasts and humanity. Paul Clay was accompanying her, as expedition photographer and chaperone.

“Chaperone!” In the eyes of the world, Paul and Faith were practically brother and sister, but that wasn’t at all how Faith saw him. When he was away at school and university, she had missed him with a dull ache, as if a part of herself had fallen away, robbing the world of its colour. And when he returned for the holidays, he distracted and delighted her, as they pushed each other to new heights in their own private world. Racing to see who could climb the tallest tree at the edge of the wood. Scrambling on cliff paths, hunting for fossils newly revealed by the crumbling rock. Terrifying each other with ghost stories in the dark, that made her shiver with an excruciating, electrifying excitement for which she could not find a name.

Then there was That Day. The day at the secret swimming hole, just past the bend in the river, when Paul dared her to hold her breath the longest. Paul’s infuriatingly nonchalant grin, as he dived into the water from the branch overhanging the spot where it was deepest, his lithe body sending ripples fanning across the surface. And then, as the ripples died away, Faith’s annoyance turning to apprehension, agitation, and finally relief as Paul surfaced, gasping but triumphant. Three minutes!

Her turn, the bark rough under her feet, as she edged out over the water. Gingerly, she sat down onto the branch, her feet just touching the murky water. A moment’s hesitation, teetering on the brink, and then the point of no return, as she launched herself downwards. The chill of the water wrapped her in its cool embrace, and the slimy, silky reeds slithered across her legs and ankles, until at last her feet touched the muddy bottom.

Squinting into the murky darkness, she could just make out the dark silhouette of a slowly rotting branch, buried in the mud. Slowly, Faith counted the seconds, as the dull drumming of her own heartbeat filled her ears.

Sixty seconds, and her lungs were crying out for air. But at the thought of Paul’s mocking laugh, she was determined to outlast him. Curling her body into a tight ball, she closed her eyes, focussing her whole attention on a single thought, feeling the cloying mud oozing between her toes, and the reeds stroking against her calves.

The seconds dragged on, each heartbeat seeming slower and more tremulous than the one before. Faith imagined herself sinking deeper into the mud, entombed there forever, the eons slowly turning her to stone – a fossil waiting to be discovered by another little girl from the future, a girl with an alien face, but inquisitive, multi-faceted eyes, a fly-person looking back across the ages, to a distant time when mammals ruled the earth.

The vision cleared, and suddenly Faith felt very much alive. Her lungs screaming for air, she kicked down hard, to launch herself to the surface. Her feet sank deep into the mud, releasing a huge bubble of gas that billowed past her and disappeared upwards. Another desperate kick only served to push her feet deeper still into the mud. In her panic, Faith thrashed wildly, but to no avail. The world was becoming hazy, and she thought she heard a whisper of her father’s voice. The fire in her lungs was now only smouldering embers, and the light seemed to dim, as the water grew colder around her.

With the last of her strength, Faith stretched out into the gloom, catching hold of the rotting branch, and pulled. A moment of hope, that fluttered and died as the branch came away in her hand.

But then, as if in a dream, she saw her hand twist the branch, and slowly force the end into the mud between her feet. She pushed down on the branch, as hard as she dared, willing it not to break. Slowly but surely, she could feel her feet being pulled clear of the mud, the reeds on her toes, and then her arms were reaching up and out like wings, and she was flying up through the water, and into the dazzling light of the world above.

And there was Paul, a Paul who was like a second part of her, and a Paul she hardly recognised, crouched low and anxious on the branch over the river. Paul clutching her hand with a surprising strength, and leading her to the bank. Paul hunched over her as she lay on the grass and took great, shuddering gasps of air. Paul wrapping her in his jacket and holding her close, as she sobbed with relief and clung to him.

A moment of utter stillness, as time stopped, and there was nothing but them, two hearts beating, two bodies and two minds welded together, and nothing else mattered. Faith could never remember how long they sat and held each other like that – a minute? – an hour? – the memory was too dazzling to see all at once. Even if you squinted, you could pick out only a fragment at a time.

Faith looked up, to see tears in Paul’s eyes, and his words all came rushing out: “Oh, Faith, I thought I’d lost you. I was so scared. You were gone for so long. I’m so sorry – I never meant to hurt you. I don’t think I could bear to lose you. Faith, I don’t know how to say this: I think I love you!”

Faith held his gaze, then reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Paul, I think I love you too!” Nobody said anything for the longest time, until at last Faith straightened her back, and gave Paul a peck on the cheek. With a giddy laugh, “I win!”

In the days and weeks that followed, it was as if nothing and yet everything had changed. Like a descant surrounding and enveloping their song, their adventures continued together, but with an extra intensity, an extra harmony. Out on a ridge, one crisp, clear night, they walked together, hand in hand. Over Paul’s shoulder was the heavy camera; Faith carried the bag with the photographic plates. Paul’s passion for photography was undiminished, and the stars remained his greatest challenge. The tripod was a mechanical marvel, allowing the camera to follow the stars as they traced their course through the sky. By carefully calibrating the angles, and winding the crank handle slowly and evenly throughout the exposure, Paul was able to produce exceptionally vivid and detailed photographs of the night sky to sell to astronomers and amateur enthusiasts.

Faith sat on a blanket on the dewy grass, keeping time, while Paul patiently turned the handle. As Paul talked about the celestial sphere, and the constellations always hidden just beneath the horizon, Faith was suddenly gripped by the most marvellous idea. “Paul,” she asked, “haven’t you ever wanted to see the southern sky? To journey to Africa and photograph the Southern Cross and all those other hidden stars?”

“You see,” said Faith, “the Zoological Society is planning an expedition to Cape Town. They don’t have very much money, maybe only enough for two people. Just imagine, if you and I could go together: I could lead the expedition, and you could be my photographer. We would send back letters and dispatches with details of everything we find, and photographs for them to exhibit in London.

“They’ve discovered flints and tiny hominid skulls in Strandloper caves overlooking the beaches there, along with bushman rock art. Some people think there are highly evolved apes still living in secret on Table Mountain, and they want to send someone to investigate. Why shouldn’t it be us?”

The seed of the idea took root, and incredibly, here at last was Faith, on the mail ship to the Cape of Good Hope, within sight of her goal. Months of expedition stretched ahead of them, a stolen second summer while Kent laboured in winter. She heard a familiar tread, and a shiver of excitement coursed through her, as Paul laid his hand on her shoulder. The journey was over, the adventure just beginning!


End file.
